Float Into Fire

Were packed for the long weekend, Ive got   my
hands full with satchels and bags and my   eye
on how your hips bop to God’s finger   snaps
as you walk through the house last-checking   all
lights are off, all windows closed. You look   like
a clover blossom, I feel like Im   a
drunken bumble bee with a   camera.

You take one last look back as we close   the
door, as if to make sure the   images
you store are fully charged against   ghostlike
dissipation. You turn to me, we   float
down the stairs, down the hill, and climb   into
the car, you and I and fall sunset   fire.

by Dan Waber, (echo by Jennifer Hill-Kaucher)